Body and Soul
by Tempestt
Summary: Life is full of choices, but the consequences of those choices can ripple out further than you think.


Disclaimer: I don't own or make a profit from Supernatural

Body and Soul

Five days before his soul's expiration date was up, he ran. Not from the demon dogs. He knew that they could find him anywhere. No, he ran from Sam---from him and all his good intentions. He knew without a doubt that Sam would fight to his dying breath to save him, and he couldn't risk it. He couldn't risk Sammy dropping dead at his feet while his soul stayed intact. He couldn't risk living through that again.

So he ran. Always one step ahead of Sam, leading him on a merry chase. In Oregon he left him dad's journal in a hotel room to remind him of family. He knew Sammy would find it. He was always right behind him, tracking him with his freaky spidey senses. In Idaho he left him his talisman hanging from a bathroom mirror. A reminder to always protect himself, only then could he protect the ones he loved. In Wyoming he left his Bowie under his pillow to caution him to always watch his back. In North Dakota he left him his silver .45 in the hands of a sweet little waitress whom he saved from a stalker ex-boyfriend turned ghost. A reminder of those that they hunted for. And in Nebraska, he left his silver ring on the headstone of the man whose life was traded for his as a reminder of the cost of mistakes made.

Stripped of everything he owned in the world he walked out of his hotel room as the hour of his death approached. As the minutes clicked by drawing his year of life to a close, he walked to a four corner road on the outskirts of Lawrence, where it all began. As the clock struck, mist swirled, and the demon appeared.

"Well I have to say, no one has actually ever hand delivered their soul to me before."

"I aim to please."

She pulled her face into a mock pout, her breath lisping out in an annoyed sigh.

"And my babies were so looking forward to the hunt."

Menacing growls emanated from the darkness, but his eyes didn't even flicker. His full lips slid up into his trademark, _I'm sexalicious_ smile that almost made her heart skip a beat twice. For once she was happy that she was a demon and not a mortal woman. For a smile like that she could almost believe that she would drop the black veil and go into the light if he beckoned. That's why she had driven such a hard bargain the year before. The thought of getting her hands on him, body and soul, the sooner the better, almost made her feel alive. They were going to have so much _fun_.

"And your brother?"

The cocky light in his green eyes dimmed and died, his smile sliding off his face like honey in the sun. Before she could draw a breath his hand was around her throat, strong, dangerous and lethal. A delicious shudder slid down her back and embedded itself in the dip of her spine.

"Stick to the deal, demon."

His eyes were hard, demon hard. Inside they had the kind of darkness that she only saw down in the deepest pits of hell. She knew a lot about the Winchesters. She had played with their daddy for a time, stringing him along with the lure of his wife, Mary. She had chatted up the other demons that had been vanquished back to hell by them, looking for some deep insight, a chink in their armor. They were one of a kind, anomalies in the natural world. She knew, like she knew that the moon would rise and the sun would fall, that Dean Winchester would crawl his way out of hell if it meant protecting his baby brother. With that knowledge also came the certainty that if she dared to get between him and the doorway out then he would gut her with less effort than it took for him to breathe.

She smiled in assurance, raising her hands. Sam Winchester was of no interest to her. She had what she wanted right in front of her.

His grip around her neck gentled, and his thumb slid along the smooth skin under her ear, tracing her pulse that jumped at his touch. He drew her in, his green eyes peering into hers, seeing past the chocolate brown to the red that gleamed inside.

A grin spread across his face, slow and deliberate, like wet, naked skin slicking against a lover. She shivered again, her pulse racing. He tilted her chin up, his full lips so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Besides, it's me that you want right? Me that you were after all this time?"

"Yes," she expelled shakily, relishing the feel of him, anticipation thrumming through every fiber of her being.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." She lifted her lips, pressing them to his. She felt his resistance, his acceptance---his sacrifice, and she fed on it. She wrapped his arms around his broad back, pulling him into the cradle of her body, while the heat of hell's flames burned around them. She pulled him down with her, feeling his body tense as a scream echoed in the night. Dirt closed overhead, blocking out the sky and the moon, but that one shouted word still vibrated around them.

"Dean!"

Sam collapsed onto the ground where his brother had stood only seconds before wrapped in a demon's embrace. She didn't even leave his body behind like she did with her other victims. She had wanted Dean, body and soul.

He pounded the dirt with his fists, screaming his brother's name until his throat was raw. Tears poured down his face and into the dust, wetting the soil beneath his fists. When the strength drained from him he collapsed onto the dirt, whispering into the earth, praying that Dean could hear his pleas and return to him.

"So I guess it's just you and me now, Sammy."

Sam looked up through grimy red-rimmed eyes, unsurprised to see the yellow-eyed man standing over him.

"You're dead." Sam's tone was weak and dry. Life was draining away from him like blood from a wound.

"Come now, Sammy. You don't really think demons are that easy to kill do you?"

Sam didn't answer, couldn't answer, couldn't care that his nemesis had resurrected. All that echoed in his mind was that Dean was gone and he was all alone. No brother. Empty. No father. Barren. No mother. A shell. He dropped his head, unable to bear the weight of it any longer.

"Yep, it's all going according to plan." The yellow-eyed man gloated, rocking back on his heels, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Sam didn't have to look up from his bed in the dirt to know that he was grinning down at him. He didn't need to see the victory in the man's face. He already knew that the demon had won.


End file.
